The Raven
by KyraLeonheart
Summary: AU SasuSaku. On that one night he lost everything, including his life. Now he’s back for revenge, redemption and maybe even love. Inspired by ‘The Crow’ Universe. Rating may change


**The Raven**

**_Summary:_ AU SasuSaku. On that one night he lost everything, including his life. Now he's back for revenge, redemption and maybe even love. Inspired by 'The Crow' Universe.**

**_DISCLAIMER FOR THE ENTIRE FANFIC:_ I don't own Naruto nor The Crow (obviously, otherwise I wouldn't be writing fanfiction…)**

**A/N: I'm back and this time with a SasuSaku fanfic! Hope you like it. I have loved 'The Crow' for years so I couldn't resist the temptation of writing a Crow based fic and Sasuke is just the perfect character for the job! (blush)**

**Love, Kyra-chan :)**

_**Prologue**_

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**-**

It was long into the night and the rain kept pouring from the sky as bittersweet angel's tears. It had been like that for the past weeks. It was unusual weather for Konohagakure no Sato, even if it was still winter. Unusual as it may be it was still not the weirdest thing happening at the time.

The river had long since surpassed its boarders and had reached one of the village's graveyards. There were three: one for civilians, one for ninjas and one for special 'heroes' among the ninja community and for the members of the most powerful clans of the Leaf. The latest of the three was the one currently facing the wrath of the waters.

Unmercifully the cold liquid made its way, spreading until it reached the place most of the people called damned, the place where an entire clan lies.

In that cold rainy day the icy water played with the tombs of the members of the famous Uchiha clan, the same that had been almost entirely wiped out in a single night by one of its most promising member.

Most tried to keep their distance from that cursed place as they visited their loved ones in the graveyard. Only the bravest (or the foulest!) dared to set foot on that particular territory. Even the animals seemed to avoid it. But not tonight. Tonight a particular bird could be seen flying over the graveyard almost forebodingly, watching, waiting…

Paying no attention to the dark aura emanating from the place it finally chose the place to land.

The moonlight revealed the bird to be a beautiful crow as he landed gracefully on a certain grave and annoyingly used its beak to make dents on the gravestone.

Whatever magic the small animal had brought with him seemed to work as just moments later the earth beneath him began to shake at the sounds of thunder. A human hand found its way to the surface desperately trying to find something to hold onto.

The body of a young man soon followed. Said boy sank on his knees with a hand pressed against his throat as only the sounds of lightening and his own gasps for air could be heard. The rain began to pour harder soaking the boy's figure even more until he could feel the effects of the cold in his bones.

With a blood-piercing scream the boy raised his head to the sky and opened his eyes.

Red orbs glared painfully into the night.

-

-

**_Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,  
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,  
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.  
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, tapping at my chamber door -  
Only this, and nothing more.'_**

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,  
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.  
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow  
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -  
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -  
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain  
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;  
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating  
'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -  
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -  
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,  
Sir,' said I, or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;  
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,  
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,  
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -  
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,  
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before  
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,  
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore!'  
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore!'  
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,  
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.  
Surely,' said I, surely that is something at my window lattice;  
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -  
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -  
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,  
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.  
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;  
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -  
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -  
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,  
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,  
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, art sure no craven.  
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -  
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'  
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,  
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;  
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being  
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -  
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,  
With such name as Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,  
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.  
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -  
Till I scarcely more than muttered Other friends have flown before -  
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'  
Then the bird said, Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,  
Doubtless,' said I, what it utters is its only stock and store,  
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster  
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -  
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore  
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,  
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;  
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking  
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -  
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore  
Meant in croaking Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing  
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;  
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining  
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,  
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,  
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer  
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.  
Wretch,' I cried, thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee  
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!  
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'  
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.'

Prophet!' said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -  
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,  
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -  
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -  
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'  
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.'

Prophet!' said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!  
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -  
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,  
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -  
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'  
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.'

Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -  
Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!  
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!  
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!  
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'  
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting  
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;  
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,  
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;  
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

'**The Raven', by Edgar Allan Poe**


End file.
